


Save Yourself

by MuchAmused



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Winchester & Reader - Freeform, Dean Winchester & You - Freeform, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Dean x Reader, F/M, Kaleo - Freeform, Mark of Cain (Supernatural), One Shot, Post-Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Song fic, Supernatural Reader insert, dean winchester x reader - Freeform, moc!Dean x reader, moc!dean, spn one shot, spn reader insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 18:29:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18816577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuchAmused/pseuds/MuchAmused
Summary: The Mark is taking its toll on Dean. You’re determined to save him, but he worries he’s not the one who needs saving.MoC!Dean x ReaderDean’s POV, One shot.Song fic inspired by “Save Yourself” by Kaleo.





	Save Yourself

 

If I’m being completely honest with myself, I should have seen this coming. Sure, I may not have known I was going to wind up with this damned Mark on my arm, but I knew from the moment we met that you were too good for me. Too innocent. Too pure. And not in predictable ways. Not like you hadn’t seen your share of blood and darkness and evil.

No. You were no stranger to the things that would give most people nightmares. But you never lost sight of the good. In the world. In people. In the possibilities that lie around every corner. You’re more like Sam in that way.

An image of the first time I saw you flashes through my mind. You, with your wide eyes and keen gaze, demon blood on your shirt and a bottle of holy water in one hand. You’d put up one hell of a fight before Sam and I had gotten there, and your hesitation to trust a couple of lanky, flannel-clad strangers had quickly given way to a friendship once the demon had been exorcised and the case was closed.

Friendship. I should have left it at that, but the palpable connection between the two of us was something I could only resist for so long. I’m just a man, afterall.

Once you moved into the bunker I just couldn’t help myself. You were always looking up at me from under those dark lashes. Chewing on that bottom lip of yours while you read over lore books. And nobody should smell that good all of the damn time.

I should have resisted when I caught you stealing glances at me. Shouldn’t have paid any attention to the way you matched your breathing to my own while you snuggled closer to me on movie nights. To the way my heart forgot how to play it cool, jumping and skipping at the simplest of touches.

Yes. I’d known way back then that this was all a bad idea. I was bad news for you. And that was before the Mark.

And yet, here you are sitting across from me, scribbling words on a lined piece of paper in your notebook while the shadows from the fire crackling nearby dance across your face. Even now I’m mesmerized by the way the light plays on your features, showcasing the slant of your nose, the angle of your jaw, the little V on your top lip.

I swallow hard, grateful you’re too entranced in what you’re writing to feel my stare. Lord knows I won’t be able to explain what you’ll find in my eyes if you look.

I hardly recognize myself these days, and the Mark of Cain tightens it’s grip on me more and more with every passing hour.

You’re determined to find a cure. You sound just like Sam when you talk about it. The two of you are hopelessly optimistic about a situation that is anything but. You study lore into all hours of the night, run through scenario after scenario with Sam, desperately searching for an answer. A way to save me. And goddammit if I don’t love you more for it.

The problem is that it’s become all too clear to me which one of us needs saving.

I watch you as you squint a little, trying to read what you’ve written in the light of the fire. I stare down at the notebook resting in my own lap. At the blank page there. You’ll expect me to have written something down soon.

You glance up from your notebook long enough to see both our glasses are empty, and you hop right up to remedy the situation. You cross the threadbare rug with your bare feet to grab the half empty bottle of whiskey. You hum a little to yourself as you approach again, doing a little turn as if you’re dancing to the song in your head before stopping to pour some of the amber liquid into my glass.

“Thank you.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before you duck down and brush your lips against mine in a kiss that’s soft and unhurried. I lean into it, to you, and I feel my heart thud a painful rhythm because just like me, it seems to know that one of these times is going to be the last time I feel your lips on mine.

When you pull back you give me just the smallest hint of a smile before filling your own glass, sitting and tucking one foot up under you as you go back to your notebook.

I don’t know how you do it. How you manage to be so happy, so content, despite all the turmoil. Despite the heavy weight I’ve cast on your shoulders simply by loving you this past while.

It was your idea, this weekly act of writing down the things that scare us, or cause us pain, and crumbling up the pages to toss into the fire. I’d gone along with it at first mostly just because it seemed to make you happy.

Turns out it feels pretty good to watch secrets burn. Hell, it might even be one of the reasons the Mark hasn’t completely poisoned every ounce of who I am yet.

But it won’t work forever.

And I know you’re the one real thing anchoring me to the memory of the man I want to be. The one I used to be. But that’s all it is. A memory. I’m not that guy anymore. And the longer the Mark eats away at me, the more I understand that I’ll never be that man again.

Every night it’s the same thing. I’m torn between my desire to feel something, anything for just one more day, and knowing I should send you away. A better man would have cut all ties by now. And that’s what you deserve.

Somewhere inside me I’ve got to find the strength to convince you I don’t love you.

I’ll have to break you. To destroy any ounce of hope you’ve been holding onto. Because that’s the only way I see you ever walking out of my life.

It makes me sick just thinking about it. I’ve played out that soon-to-be fight in my head a hundred times if I’ve done it once. I can’t imagine the words that will have to leave my mouth, the things I’ll have to do to convince you to go.

I take a swallow from my whiskey glass and set the cup down, stealing one more glance at your face.

You let out a soft sigh and tear a page from your notebook, crumpling it up with a smirk of satisfaction. You toss it into the flames and watch it blacken and turn to ash. Then you look up at me expectantly as you reach for your glass and take a sip.

And so for the third week in a row I write down the words that break what’s left of my blackening heart. The words I can’t bear to say outloud just yet:

_I’m losing myself. But I’ll be damned if I’m taking you down with me. I loved you once, more than any one man should be able to love, but this darkness is consuming me. I don’t know how to love anymore. And I’m done going through the motions. You have to go._

_Go … and forget all about me._

_Find someone else who deserves to see that light in your eyes, who deserves to be the reason behind it. Someone who won’t taint it with darkness, despair, violence._

_So go, Darlin._

_Save yourself._

The words I write are a combination of soul-bending truths and lies so horrific I’m not sure how I’ll say them outloud to you when the time comes. But I’ll say them if it’s the last thing I do. Because as long as you keep looking at me like I’m a damn hero you won’t be safe.

I tear the page out and crumple it with one hand, leaning forward and tossing it into the fire. The flames lick at the paper, consuming it in a manner I’m all too familiar with.

You make your way over to me, your hand going to the back of my neck as you lower yourself onto my lap, facing me.

“Hey handsome,” you purr.

God, it’s almost too much to handle. I avert my gaze, finding a new interest in the pattern on the rug. And I should just tell you now. Fast and hard like ripping off a bandaid. It’s as good a time as any to break a heart.

Or two.

And Sam is nearby. He’ll be right here to stop me if, God forbid, the act of pushing you away is all it takes to throw the flood gates open wide and this monster inside of me takes hold.

God, you’ll be devastated. Even after everything that’s happened, you won’t see it coming.

You’ll know why I’m doing it. You’ll insist you can save me. That I’m still worth saving, even though I know differently. You’ll look at me with those big, watery eyes, and I’ll have a hard time not believing everything you say in the moment.

Because against your better judgement, you’re in love with me.

And that’s why I know I’ll have to shatter that beautiful heart of yours into a thousand goddamn pieces to keep you safe.

Your hand cups my cheek, your thumb brushing along the stubble on my chin, and hell …. I don’t know how I’m going to do it.

It won’t be long now. The mark won’t allow me to go through with it if I don’t do it soon.

I meet your gaze, find the worry hidden there that you’re doing a damned good job at concealing, for the most part.

I wet my lips with my tongue as your other hand lands on my chest.

“You’re supposed to let it go, you know,” you say softly. “That’s the whole point of burning our secrets, so we don’t have to hold them in.”

I should do it. I should. But your lips are dangerously close to mine. So close your breath tickles my skin….

Not tonight.

Tonight I’m going to wrap my arms around you by this fire and hold you close against me. I’m going to mourn the loss of my old self. Of you. Of us.

I’m going to revel in the feel of your chest pressed against mine. The way you pace your breathing to match my own. Let my heart hammer out that unsteady rhythm like it’s competing for the title of world’s worst drummer.

Tonight I’ll stare into those eyes, still wonder-filled and hopeful as you gaze up at me from under those dark lashes, and I’ll know I was a better man for a time because of you.

And I’m too goddamn selfish to tell you just now, but you’re better off without me.


End file.
